Oath to a Jupiter Adept
by Jupiter Sprite
Summary: A story starting before the founding of Kalay, before Ivan was ever entrusted to Master Hammet. This tells of Ivan's origins, the trials of his childhood, and the prophecy that would shape his future. SPOILER WARNING
1. Prologue: Mortal Danger

Today was a SNOW DAY! So, I've decided to finally start this fic. I've been planning it for quite a while, believe me. ^_^; 

Lull: Too long. This is your first multi-chaptered story in what, four months? 

...Something like that, yeah. Anyway, I first got this idea from the Ice Princess (of Incrediblecuznz), who suggested a fic about Ivan's childhood... Thanks for that! ^_^ I wanted to take it a little bit farther. So, this starts way back before Kalay is even founded, and before Master Hammet was entrusted with Ivan. 

Lull: This'll probably contain spoilers, too, although you likely won't understand them if you haven't played GS2. 

Yeah, please don't get mad at me for spoiling it... we warned you. ^_^ 

I'm improvising on quite a few things, since the game is very vague on Ivan's (and Hammet's) past. This is mostly based on the story Lady Layana tells the party in Kalay, and the Contigo section of TLA. I don't remember that too clearly, so bear with me on Contigo details. Feel free to correct me if you think you spot a significant mistake. 

Oh, and a plug! I put out another one-shot a while back. "To Be Loved": songficcy; Ivan and Hama in Contigo. Yeah, typical me. ^_^ Only four reviews, though, so go read if you've got some time on your hands! 

Anywho, on to the story! This is just the prologue; don't expect it to be too long. 

***

Oath to a Jupiter Adept  
Prologue: Mortal Danger

Hammet stared blankly at the canvas ceiling of his tent, a grim expression on his features. He let out a sigh and turned over, trying to ignore the dampness that seeped into his blankets. If he didn't sleep now, he wouldn't be alert in the morning; if he wasn't alert in the morning, who knew what could befall him in this treacherous land. He was still young; he didn't wish to die miles from his homeland. He pushed some brown hair out of his face and thought of home. 

His thoughts turned to his wife, Layana. As his success as a merchant had dwindled, he had decided to leave Angara to search for a new source of business. Layana hadn't wanted him to go, but he had not had any other choice. Hammet's sources in Angara and Gondowan were becoming less profitable; Lalivero was growing tired of northern goods, and the Valeans seldom opened their gates, suspicious of all outsiders. Hammet frowned, pulling his blankets tighter around his shoulders. He had always thought something was strange about that town. 

Of course, this place was even stranger. He had traveled very far southwest, and had not yet come across any civilization, much less a possible source of business. 

Despite his exhaustion from traveling all day, Hammet still could not get to sleep. He could not help but worry about what he would encounter the next day. He had been safe so far, but had fled from monsters several times in the past few days. Maybe he should have taken Bunza up on his offer to come along. He may have been Hammet's disciple, but he knew a thing or two about swords. Still, Hammet felt this was something he needed to do alone. If he was going to become a successful merchant, he couldn't always rely on others. 

A sound outside the tent caught Hammet's attention. He froze, panic creeping into the back of his throat. It was probably just the wind, he told himself. 

A long, low growl quickly disproved that theory. 

Swallowing hard, Hammet reached for the tent flap and peeked outside. 

Several glowing pairs of eyes stared back at him. Despite the darkness, he could make out large, menacing silhouettes shifting against the sky. Another growl emitted from close by, and warm, rancid breath rolled across his face. 

His knowledge in business wouldn't be helping him here. 

Hammet pulled back into the tent and closed his eyes, trying to breathe. A loud ripping sound brought him back to reality. A monster glared at him through the large tear in the side of his tent. 

Crying out, he stumbled backward and practically dove out of his tent, into the trees. He ran blindly, panic fueling his muscles. More ripping and crunching sounds rang out from behind him as his tent was destroyed, then the flutter of wings and the crashing of huge feet against earth, growing closer by the second. Hammet threw a glance over his shoulder to see at least four huge creatures advancing on him. 

Moonlight shone down on him suddenly as he reached a break in the trees. Stumbling into the center of the small clearing, he stopped in his tracks when he spotted three warriors, two males and one female, standing at the edge of the trees across from him. Their clothes were strange, brightly colored and finely decorated. The one in front, seemingly the leader, had blond hair and piercing violet eyes. 

Hammet hesitated. Were these people friends, or enemies? 

The leader's eyes widened in shock when he caught sight of Hammet. He suddenly charged forward, staff held out in front of him. Hammet gasped, thinking he was being attacked, but was stunned when the man's weapon met the claws of a monster behind him. 

"Stay back!" The leader yelled, as the others surged forward to join him. Hammet did as he was told, watching the battle in shocked silence. He drew his breath in sharply as violet light flashed in the air, and the winds whipped violently around the clearing. The monsters shrieked in agony. 

What happened next seemed to take only a split-second. A winged monster suddenly struck out at the other man, knocking his weapon aside and throwing him to the ground. Hammet backed up, but the monster rushed forward and slashed at him with its claws. He felt a sudden impact with the back of his head, and was suddenly in the grass, looking up at the treetops. Everything was strangely blurry. 

The triumphant cries of the monster, agonized voices of the warriors, and deafening sounds of battle faded as the scene around him went black. 

***

So? You like? Review with comments, suggestions, corrections, rants... just review! ^_^ I'll try to keep the updates coming... but please, go easy on the pizza deliveries and angry mobs during this ficcy. ^^;;; 


	2. One: Child of Destiny

Whee, I'm back again. A cookie to the Ice Princess for being my first and only reviewer (sulk). I was going to wait for more, but I'm too impatient, so... I give you the first official chapter! 

Disclaimer: I don't own Golden Sun, but I guess I own the parts of the plot that the game didn't specify about... and any OCs I happen to stick in. We'll see what happens. 

*****

Oath to a Jupiter Adept  
Chapter One: Child of Destiny

  
Hammet awoke to a throbbing pain in his head. Groaning softly, he gingerly touched a hand to the spot - and was suddenly aware his wound had been bandaged. He panicked momentarily, but relaxed as he opened his eyes. Wherever this place was, it didn't seem hostile. 

Looking around the room, he found that it was actually quite welcoming. A few pieces of carved wooden furniture lay about, with colorful pottery and other items sitting atop them. The bed he lay in was simply designed, and covered with a brightly colored quilt. Several tapestries on the walls displayed similar designs. Turning to look beside the bed, Hammet saw that a tray of food sat on his nightstand. 

Deciding to trust his mysterious caretakers, he cautiously grasped the spoon and took a bite. He was famished - he must have been sleeping for quite a while. The food had a very exotic taste, with hints of unfamiliar spices. After finishing it off, he carefully stood and went to the window. 

Squinting against the sunlight, he made out several other houses below his. The house he stood in seemed to be at the top of a small hill. Was this the village of the warriors he had seen before? 

A sound at the door caught his attention. Turning from the window, Hammet saw a small, purple-haired girl standing in the doorway. She looked to be about nine or ten years old, and stood silently watching him. He noted her clothes were of a similar style as the warriors that had battled the monsters. When she realized that he had seen her, her violet eyes widened and she scampered away from the doorway, ponytail trailing slightly behind her. 

Voices echoed from the hallway. "He's awake, Mama." The girl's voice. 

Now an older woman spoke. "All right, I'll talk to him. ...Fetch your brother for me, won't you, Hama?" Hammet detected a hint of sorrow in the woman's voice as she finished her request. 

Footsteps approached, and the woman appeared in the doorway. She was clearly the girl's mother, with the same purple hair and large, violet eyes. She looked briefly to the empty plate on the nightstand, then back to Hammet, standing by the window. 

"I see you're awake." She smiled hesitantly. "I hope you slept well." 

"I did, thank you." Hammet was relieved these people were friendly. "Could you perhaps tell me where I am?" 

The woman nodded. "You are in the village of Contigo. My husband's patrol group brought you back last night. You were out cold, but your injuries weren't too serious, so you should be fine now." 

Hammet nodded. He had finally found civilization, but there was certainly no chance of starting trade here; not with his tent, supplies, and goods lost to monsters. 

Just then, the girl that had been watching him before padded into the room, clutching a baby in her arms. She handed the baby up to her mother, then clung to her skirt, still eyeing Hammet. He had the strange sensation she was looking straight into his mind. 

The mother looked annoyed, and crouched down to the girl's level. She seemed to be scolding her for something. When she straightened, the feeling was gone. She turned back toward Hammet. "I'll have to ask you to come with me. Our elders... would like to speak with you." She inclined her head, purple locks falling into her face. "Please follow me." Turning from the doorway, she led Hammet from the house. 

Stepping out into the sunlight, Hammet could see many people gathered below him. Several important-looking people - perhaps the elders the woman had mentioned? - were standing in what looked to be the town square. A large, circular stone design was beneath their feet, its pattern weaving into itself like breezes on a windy day. 

The baby in the woman's arms whimpered, and the wind suddenly picked up, rustling the mother's skirts and nearly blowing Hammet's cap off. She bent her head down to the baby and made comforting noises. It quieted and the wind died down. Hammet was reminded of the way the warriors had fought. Had he imagined it? He shivered. Something about this village and its people seemed strange. 

As Hammet followed the woman down the hill and into the square, all the villagers turned toward him. Again he had the strange sensation that they were looking right through him. When he arrived in the center of the square, he watched the woman and her daughter stand beside the blond-haired warrior he had met before. The girl reached for his hand, and Hammet realized that he was her father. 

He glimpsed another of the warriors standing amidst the crowd, his arm bandaged. A pang of guilt hit him when he remembered that the man had been wounded while protecting him against the monsters. Directing his attention back to the people in front of him, Hammet studied a man who seemed to be the town elder. He also had violet eyes, a trait shared by many of the Contigans, and carried a tall wooden staff with a carved head. He was taller than Hammet, and looked down at him with seriousness. 

"Welcome to Contigo, traveler." Hammet started as he realized the elder was addressing him. "What do you call yourself?" 

Hammet took a moment to find his voice. The elder's deep, booming speech was intimidating. "I am called Hammet." He had wanted to address the elder by a respectful title, but did not know what this town would find appropriate. 

"Yes..." The elder smiled slightly, though seemingly more to himself than to Hammet. "You have been expected." Hammet didn't know what to say to this. The elder stepped forward, face serious again, regarding him gravely. "You have an important role to play in the fate of Weyard, Hammet. Listen carefully." Hammet watched in stunned silence as the man moved toward the mother and her children. He had been expected? An important role? What was this man talking about? 

Now standing beside the purple-haired woman, the elder beckoned. Hammet walked over until he stood in front of the man. "You have seen how our warriors fight." It was a statement, not a question. "We are Adepts - wielders of Alchemy's elements." 

"Adepts?" Hammet blurted. This was a strange concept to him. Was he dreaming? 

"Yes. We are a village of Jupiter Adepts, powers stemming from the wind. There are also Venus Adepts, drawing power from the earth, Mars Adepts, masters of fire, and Mercury Adepts, controlling the water." The elder nodded to Hammet. "There are Adepts on your own continent of Angara, if you know where to look." 

"How... how did you know where I was from?" Hammet demanded, bewildered. 

"Jupiter Adepts see much more about you than merely your appearance," the elder replied mysteriously. "But we have more important matters to attend to." He turned to the woman, and the baby she held in her arms. "This baby is no ordinary child." He glanced back at Hammet, fixing him with an intense gaze. "His name is Ivan, and he is a child of destiny. I have seen into this boy's future." 

_Kneel._ The elder's voice seemed to speak into Hammet's mind. Startled, he did as he was told. The woman knelt in front of him, and placed the baby boy in his arms. Hammet looked down at him. He had violet eyes just like his mother's, and wisps of soft blond hair. The blanket he was wrapped in was lavender, though a lighter shade than his eyes. The woman stood again, and taking the staff from the elder, held the carved head over Hammet's own. 

The elder spoke again. "Listen well, Hammet, to this prophecy - for it will shape this baby's future." He paused. "Three years after the terrible storm that strikes only Mt. Aleph... Ivan must depart on a journey with warriors from Vale. Do not forget." 

Suddenly, the staff was pressed into Hammet's hand. Looking up in surprise, he met the eyes of the woman. 

"We give you Ivan and the the Shaman's Rod." The woman's voice was gentle, sorrowful. "You must use the rod to search... for an item that Ivan will need on his quest." She paused, eyes distant. "You must go to Hesperia... When you find it, you will know." As she stooped back to Hammet's level, her eyes glistened with tears. "Swear to me," she whispered, "that you will search for it... and that you will take care of my son." 

Hammet was shocked. He was taking this woman's baby... and the elder's staff... to search for a mysterious item. Hesperia? This was just too much to take in. He swallowed. "I... I will. I swear it." 

The elder motioned for him to stand. Ivan cooed softly as he rose. "You are a merchant, are you not?" Hammet nodded. He would just have to accept that these people knew more about him than they should be able to. "Then take this." 

Hammet gasped as the elder slipped a bag of golden doubloons into his pack. "I - I can't accept this!" 

The elder held a finger to his lips. "You know of Xian, correct?" Hammet nodded again. "You must buy silk in Xian and sell it in Tolbi if you wish to succeed." 

Hammet gaped. "I don't know how to thank you... I couldn't possibly repay you for this." 

Now Ivan's father spoke. The resemblance between him and the baby was startling. "Just take good care of our baby, and be vigilant in your search. That is all we ask of you." 

"Go well," the elder told him, then turned and walked away, into the crowd. Hammet looked after him, hesitated, and turned toward the town gates. 

He saw the woman bury her face in her husband's shoulder as he turned away. Looking down at the baby in his arms, his heart sank. He left the village and began to walk to his ship. 

Out in the open, he was amazed to see a huge tower in the distance, constructed of purple stone. An enormous crater lay between him and it, and powerful winds blew across it. They seemed almost to whisper something, a strange, mysterious language. 

In his arms, Ivan seemed to whisper back. 

  


*****

How am I doing? I haven't been to Contigo in a while, so if I've made a mistake, again, you can correct me. Please review, and tell me what you think! 

Lull: Or she'll sulk around again. I'm tired of listening to her. 

^_^ That's right - do it for Lull's sake. I'll try to update sometime not too ridiculously far in the future... ^^; 

[A/N 2/22/04: After closer inspection of some of the dialogue, I realized I needed to mention Hesperia... so I edited a little. Very minor, but noteworthy anyhow, I guess...] 


	3. Two: Secrets

Meh. Hello. I know I'm being extremely bad about updating, and I'm very sorry for that. I just got major writer's block on this chapter... I drew a complete blank. I _think_ I have some good ideas now, so here we go. 

Lull: Hmph. Maybe if you had spent more time thinking about the chapter instead of playing TLA, you'd have updated by now. 

Lull, you're taken straight _out_ of Golden Sun. I'd think you, of all... er, creatures... would understand its addictiveness! ...Anyway... 

**Incrediblecuznz:** Thank you muchly! ^_^ You make me feel special. I felt especially bad getting such an enthusiastic review and taking a long time to update... ^^; 

**Feonyx:** Thank you too! Much of this story will actually focus on Ivan. This chapter will most likely be the last Hammet-centric chapter... but we'll see what happens. 

***

Oath to a Jupiter Adept  
Chapter Two: Secrets

  
"The monsters had almost caught up to him, when suddenly..." Hammet paused for suspense, staring at his adoptive son with a silly expression on his face. 

Four-year-old Ivan giggled, violet eyes sparkling as he stared up at the storyteller. "More, Daddy!" he laughed, clapping his hands gleefully. 

Hammet smiled to himself. He had often marveled at the ability of young people to listen to the same story over and over and still find so much enjoyment in it. He paused for a moment before continuing. "...three warriors appeared out of the trees! There was one woman and two men, wearing strange clothing and carrying powerful weapons. The bravest fighter of all was their leader, the one with blond hair and bright purple eyes. The fighters charged forward-" 

"Hammet?" A woman's form appeared in the doorway. Her red hair glinted in the light of the candle she held. "Are you two almost done in here?" 

"Just a moment, Layana..." Hammet returned to his story, gesturing wildly to act out the parts of the warriors. Ivan's favorite part had always been when the warriors appeared to save the day. Now he watched, transfixed, as Hammet told the story. Finally the wayward traveler was safe in the foreign village, and the tale was over. 

Hammet bent down to say goodnight to his son, thinking about the trip to market he would have to make tomorrow. Mentally he recalled the list of the things they needed. Ivan was going through a phase of very picky eating, and it was difficult to find things to suit his tastes. 

"Am not," Ivan huffed. Hammet blinked. 

"What was that, my boy?" he asked. Surely he had misheard him. 

"I'm not a picky eater," Ivan repeated very clearly, fixing his adoptive father with a pouty stare. When Hammet still didn't respond, his expression slowly changed to a small smile. "You're weird, Daddy." He flopped down onto his pillow, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "G'night." 

Shaking his head, Hammet straightened. "Good night, Ivan." 

In the hall, Layana peered quizzically at her husband. "Hammet? What is it? You seem distracted." 

"Oh, me? Well, it's nothing, really..." 

Layana shook her head. "He knew what you were thinking... didn't he?" Seeing Hammet's surprised look, she sighed. "It's been happening with me, too. Like yesterday, I was thinking about how cold it was in the house..." she smiled slightly. "He asked me if I wanted him to close the window." 

Hammet frowned. "You're sure you didn't just speak out loud?" 

"I'm positive." She paused, looking around, then said in a lower voice, "Hammet, let's go outside." 

"Layana, he can't hear us out here..." 

She only shook her head again, heading for the door. "He hears more than we think he does." 

Outside, Hammet paused to inhale the crisp breeze blowing over the rooftops of Vault. With the success of his silk trading, their house had grown to be one of the biggest in town. He frowned to himself. He owed so much to that strange village in the Western Sea, but it was still such a mystery to him... 

"Down here." Layana had taken a seat on the steps in front of the house, and was patting the stone beside her. The darkness obscured her expression, but Hammet sensed there was something on her mind. 

Sure enough, she sighed deeply as he sat down beside her. "Hammet... have you ever thought about whether we should be keeping Ivan so involved in his past?" 

Hammet was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure I understand you, dear." 

"It's just... you're always telling him stories... about Contigo, about his parents. You and I both know he possesses strange powers." She frowned. "The way he manipulates the wind is truly astounding. But if we encourage these powers, if we tell him about his past - it could cause problems. Not only for us, but for him as well. People fear what they can't control. If Ivan falls into that category..." 

"I see what you mean." Hammet sighed. He didn't want to cause problems for Ivan. It was true that others might shun him if they knew about his strange origins and abilities. "Are you suggesting that we keep his past a secret from him entirely?" 

Layana looked down at her knees, her hair casting shadows across her face. "I don't see what else we can do. If we tell him even the smallest parts of his story, he'll want to know the rest when he's older. That could complicate things." 

Something clicked in Hammet's head. "And the prophecy I heard in Contigo... it said that Ivan would need to embark on a quest." His brow furrowed as he thought back to the Contigan woman's words. "Three years after the terrible storm that strikes only Mt. Aleph... There's no telling how old Ivan will be by then. Probably plenty mature enough to wonder about where he came from, and who his true parents are." 

His wife looked up at him. "So you think his origins would distract him from his quest?" 

Hammet sighed and raked fingers through his hair. "That was my thought. Although it won't be easy avoiding the subject altogether. He'll want to know the truth sooner or later." 

"I hope this is the right thing to be doing." Layana sighed, leaning into her husband's shoulder. "I feel so guilty hiding things from Ivan. He's a smart boy, and I don't want to deceive him." 

"I know what you mean. I feel responsible now too, since Ivan's been... entrusted to me." Hammet felt a pain of something - sorrow? regret? - as he remembered the tear-streaked face of Ivan's mother, her pleading whisper. Not only as a person, but as a father, he wanted to do the right thing for her baby. 

There was a pause before Layana turned uncertain eyes to her husband. "What will we tell everyone? About Ivan, I mean. I don't think 'A mind-reading wind-magic lady in the Western Sea gave him to me' is going to work." 

Hammet sighed. "We've been through this. I think we should just stick to the story we've been using. We found him, orphaned on the outskirts of town. He was completely alone, and we don't know where he came from." Layana still looked unsure. "You know Angara's been going through hard times, dear." He put an arm around her shoulder reassuringly. "It's a bit of an unlikely story, but definitely not impossible." 

Without warning, Layana buried her face in his shoulder. "I feel like an awful mother," she said tearfully. Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his tunic. "There shouldn't be secrets between a child and his parents, adoptive or not." 

Hammet stroked her hair soothingly. "Ivan is a special case, Layana. In this situation, I believe we are doing what's right. He _will_ know about his past. Just... not yet." He remembered Ivan's mother. "Do not forget," she had told him. The intensity in her eyes when she said it still had an effect on him. "The prophecy comes first," he sighed. 

Suddenly the wind picked up, scattering autumn leaves across the porch and ruffling the couple's clothes. With a howl, the sudden gale intensified, and Hammet had to grip his cap tightly to keep it from blowing away. Layana said something over the wind, but her words were carried off by the gusts as soon as they left her mouth. 

Taking his wife's hand, Hammet fought the wind for access to the front door. Finally they made it inside, the fierce gusts slamming the door shut behind them. Hammet could still hear the howling through the door, but at least he could hear Layana, too. 

"Where did that come from?" Hammet reached up to straighten his cap. "It was so calm a moment ago." 

"Nightmares." Layana was staring off down the hallway. Seeing her husband's quizzical look, she took his wrist and led him back to Ivan's room. "Look at him." 

Hammet looked. Sure enough, Ivan was thrashing around in his bed, sheets tangled. The top blanket had already been thrown off. He mumbled incoherent phrases as he tossed and turned beneath the covers. 

Going to his side, Layana stroked his hair and made soothing noises. Ivan slowly calmed down, his feverish whimpering fading. With a jolt, Hammet noticed that the sudden tempest outside was also subsiding, the wind's howls quieting to a calmer level. When Ivan was again sleeping peacefully, the fierce gusts were completely gone, the outside left as if nothing had happened. 

"Ivan doesn't just manipulate the wind," he murmured as Layana returned. "It's like it's a part of him." 

She shook her head tiredly. "Let's go to bed, Hammet." 

The next day at bedtime, Ivan asked for his usual story, about the traveling merchant and the warriors who fought with wind. Hammet sighed as he looked into Ivan's eager, innocent eyes. 

"Let's tell a different story tonight, Ivan," he said softly. 

***

T_T I have no excuses for taking this long, I know. I'm still not sure I'm entirely satisfied with this chapter. If it seems too much like filler, I'm very sorry! ^^ I just needed to establish this plot point before I could elaborate on my other story elements, so... yeah. 

Please review. You all get free cookies for waiting so long for this chappy! ^_^ 


	4. Three: Kalay

Hello again. I didn't mean to take this long with this chapter, but the computer that had all my story stuff went wacko. We had to send it in to get fixed and it took a _long_ time. Then state exams decided to crash in. TT 

But anyway, I'm back now, with an actual plotline to follow, so here we go. 

**WildfireDreams:** Well, I'm glad Ivan is one of your favorites, because you won't be seeing much of anyone else. ; I hope you enjoyed your cookie! 

**Damiens Demon:** Thanks for the reviews! I'm updating now; please don't hurt me! 

Disclaimer: Golden Sun isn't mine. What else is new? I have heard there's going to be a Golden Sun for the Gamecube, though. 

----

Oath to a Jupiter Adept  
Chapter Three: Kalay

  
"Ivan? Ivan, where are you?" 

Ivan looked down from his perch atop his bookshelf to see Layana entering through the doorway below. Sticking a finger into his book, he leaned over to put himself in view. "Up here, Mom." 

Layana, startled, looked up, then frowned slightly when she saw where Ivan sat. "Are you sure that's safe?" she asked, eyeing the wooden bookshelf standing against the wall. "You could fall." 

"I won't," Ivan replied, making a face. "I do this all the time." To prove his point, he swung his legs over the edge of the bookshelf and dropped lightly to the floor of his room. 

Layana winced. "You still make me nervous. What are you reading?" 

Ivan smiled and turned the cover of his book toward her. He was glad that at least his parents took him seriously. Most of the citizens of Kalay assumed he was too young to be reading books; but just because he was nine didn't mean he was unintelligent. He read more than most of the older kids in town. 

"The Secrets of the Western Sea," Layana read. She frowned slightly, and a strange look passed across her face that Ivan didn't recognize. "Your... your father used to be interested in that book too, back when..." 

Ivan waited, but Layana didn't continue. "Back when what, Mom?" 

Layana started, as if coming out of a trance, then shook her head slightly. "It's nothing, Ivan. Don't worry about it." He opened his mouth, but she quickly cut him off. "Why don't you go outside for a while? Your dad should be coming back soon - you can tell me when he gets here." Seeing Ivan's unconvinced look, she gave him a gentle push toward the door. "Go on." 

Ivan hesitated, but sighed and plodded out of the room. There was no sense in arguing with Layana when she got like this. His mother had a will like stone. He smirked as he descended the palace stairs. And she told _him_ not to be stubborn. 

Pausing outside the palace doors, Ivan looked up at the sky and enjoyed the wind blowing through his hair. Following the breeze's path, he turned to look up at the palace, a majestic silhouette against the sky. His parents had made so much money with their silk trading that Hammet had finally been able to achieve his dream of founding a city - Kalay. Sometimes Ivan wondered how his father had become so successful as a merchant. Just luck, he supposed. 

Nodding to the guard outside the doors, Ivan continued down the steps and into the main part of town. Even though it was his fourth year living in Kalay, he always felt a little awkward entering or leaving the palace. Luxury and riches - it all seemed so far away from him. Sometimes he felt like he really didn't belong here. The son of a rich and successful merchant - it just didn't seem like who he was meant to be. 

To make matters worse, a lot of the other kids in town envied him for his status. Ivan didn't really understand it, but he had already been victim to several not-so-friendly encounters with the older kids. Luckily, he was fast on his feet, and was usually able to use his agility to escape the bullies. 

Now in the town square, Ivan looked around for a place to sit and enjoy the breeze. Spotting the inn's high roof, he headed that way. No one spoke to him as he passed through the inn's main room and up the ladder. People tended to see him as unapproachable. Just because he was Hammet's son. It got lonely sometimes. 

He found a spot near the edge of the roof and sat, leaning back and relaxing. The winds were picking up slightly, sending ripples through the leaves of the trees and whispering as they went. Ivan watched the breeze swirl through the sky. His parents said they couldn't see the wind. He found that so strange. He always knew what the wind was doing - it was constantly in the back of his mind. 

On days like this, when the winds blew steadily through clear skies, the wind in the air seemed to join with one within him. Ivan felt every inch of his body pulsing with the rhythm of its dance, longing to spiral through the sky along with it. It was like a wind in his mind, that changed with his emotions. When he was calm, it was a gentle breeze. When he got angry or upset, it was a raging tempest. Sometimes it wanted to break loose. 

Gripped by a sudden impulse, Ivan reached a hand into the air. He concentrated on the breezes around him. Slowly, deliberately, he moved his hand through the air, focusing hard. He thought he caught a flash of purple light, and for an instant, it felt like- 

"Um... Excuse me..." A voice broke through Ivan's thoughts. He dropped his hand and turned his head, brushing some hair out of his eyes, and caught sight of two children standing near the ladder. A girl who looked to be about ten or eleven stood in front. Slightly behind her, clutching his sister's arm tightly, was a younger boy, no more than five or six. They looked slightly familiar - Ivan had seen them around town once or twice, but had never really gotten to know them. He had given up on having friends a long time ago. 

"What is it?" he asked. They didn't seem like they were going to do anything to him, but he was ready to shoot right back down that ladder the instant they got mean. 

The girl fidgeted, looking uncomfortable and a little nervous. Ivan didn't know why, as she was at least a year older than him. He hated it when the other kids were afraid of him - but at least it was better than being bullied. "Well, the other kids were talking, and they said... Well, you live with Master Hammet and Lady Layana, but... I was wondering, who are your parents, Ivan?" 

Ivan gave her a blank look. "What do you mean?" 

She blushed deeply and shrank back, looking unsure. Ivan wondered if someone else had put her up to this. 

"You know, your _real_ parents," her brother supplied, poking his head around her arm. "Hammet and the Lady aren't your real parents." 

Ivan turned away, looking over the rooftops. "Is that really so important?" he asked softly. Hammet had talked to him about how he was adopted. He hadn't told him who his real parents were, and Ivan hadn't thought it mattered. But did it? 

The boy's eyes widened. "Yeah, it's important. I mean... sure, they act like your parents... but it's not really the same, is it?" 

His sister looked mortified, and clamped a hand over the boy's mouth. "Don't be so rude!" she commanded, shooting a terrified glance in Ivan's direction. 

Ivan winced. This was disgusting - what was she so terrified of? Surely she didn't think he'd - _do_ anything to them - did she? "Look, I've gotta go." Not bothering to wait for an answer, Ivan brushed past the siblings and descended the ladder. He could still feel their intense stares on his back. 

What was so dangerous about him? What could Ivan, the nine-year-old boy from Kalay, possibly do to hurt them? He wasn't strong, and he certainly wasn't bigger than them. He had always been small. Why did other people see him as a threat? 

As he made his way back to the palace, the boy's words echoed in his mind. _Sure, they act like your parents... but it's not really the same, is it?_

_Not the same..._

He felt strange. Surely he wasn't letting those kids get to him. But something about what they had said rang true. He was close to Hammet and Layana, but there was still something separating them. He didn't feel like he could share everything with them, or say whatever he felt. Wasn't that what a true family was? 

Would he have a different relationship with his family if he still lived with his birth parents? Who _were_ they? It seemed most of Kalay knew more about his past than he did. Now anger flared inside him - anger laced with fear. His inner wind built into a small tornado. Did his parents not trust him? Was that it? 

Pounding up the stairs toward the palace, he saw his father's wagon was stationed outside. He must have come home while he was out. A mix of sadness and anger washed over him. That wasn't his father's wagon - it was Master Hammet's wagon. _Hammet_ had come home. 

He doubted his father ever would. 

Ivan ran through the palace in a daze, thoughts circling through his head, neverending. This was his home. _Is it my home?_ This was his family. _Is it my family?_ These were his parents. _Are they my parents?_

_Are they? Are they?_

"Who are my parents?" he blurted out. 

Hammet looked up from his seat next to Layana on the bed. When he caught sight of Ivan, wide-eyed, leaning against the doorframe, he frowned. 

"Ivan, whatever are you talking about, son?" 

Ivan scowled. Suddenly he was angry. This issue had always been in the back of his mind, the tension building, and now... "That's just it," he said menacingly. "I'm not your son. Who are my real parents?" Hammet and Layana exchanged glances. Ivan sighed and dropped his head. In a softer voice he pleaded, "Please. I want to know." 

Layana looked uneasy, shifting slightly before she gave an answer. "Ivan, we've been over this. We found you outside Vault. We never met your parents. We don't know who they are." Ivan frowned. Something was wrong. What were they really thinking? 

_What are they thinking?_

Suddenly a strange feeling came over him, and he felt as if he was looking right through the couple on the bed. 

_What if he finds out? He can't know..._

_I feel awful keeping this from him... But if we tell him..._

Ivan gasped, staring wide-eyed at the people he had called his parents. "You're lying to me," he whispered disbelievingly. "All this time, you've been lying to me?" His parents were silent, and he felt hot tears slipping down his cheeks. 

"I hate you," he choked out. Then he ran. 

As his footfalls retreated towards his room, Layana looked to her husband and sighed deeply. 

"I knew this would happen." 

"Ivan?" Hammet cautiously pushed the door to Ivan's room open. It was evening now, but Ivan still sat on the bed, his back facing the door. He didn't make a sound as Hammet walked over. 

Suddenly, Ivan whirled around to face him. The anger in his usually gentle face was alarming. "You could have told me the truth. Why are you hiding things from me? Why did you have to lie?" His voice wavered, and he seemed to be on the verge of tears again. 

"Ivan..." Hammet stretched out a hand toward him. When his son shrank back, he sighed and stooped to Ivan's level. "I'm sorry." Ivan, startled, looked up. "I know we must seem like awful people to you right now. But I promise, we're trying to do what's best for you." 

"How would you know what's best for me?" Ivan mumbled. "You're not even my dad. You're like a complete strang-" 

"Ivan." Hammet's voice was firmer now. "Just try to understand." He paused, looking for a minute at his son's tear-stained face. "You're a special boy. There are things in your future that are... important. More important even than finding your parents." 

Ivan stared blankly back at him. "Like what?" 

"You'll find out. For now, it's best we not discuss it. It your parents were here, it's what they would have said too." 

"You knew them?," Ivan's features were still as expressionless as ever, but his voice betrayed his eagerness. "You do know who they are. Why can't you tell me?" 

Hammet sighed deeply, not meeting his son's eyes. This conversation was not going well. Had he already told him too much? "You'll find out," he repeated. "Don't worry, son. You'll understand someday." 

Anger stirred again in Ivan's eyes, and he turned away. "Please don't call me that." 

Hammet just stared at Ivan's back, not wanting to comprehend what he had heard. "A-All right. Good night... Ivan." 

"Good night, Hammet." 

----

Ugh. This has been a horrible week. At least all my tests are done with. ; 

So, yeah. R&R. You've - already read, but... ah, whatever. I'm not making any promises for next time because I probably won't be able to keep them. My main focus for now is getting to the Jupiter Lighthouse in my current TLA game! I miss the good old GS1 party. 

Has anyone else had problems with certain symbols disappearing? All my little faces are like, dead. Underscores no longer seem to register, and asterisks aren't showing up, either. And those... whateveryoucallems... that make up the eyes in all the faces. Y'know what I'm talking about? I suspect it may have something to do with this weird new quick edit thing. 

Please review. Pretty please? I implore you. (Isn't that a cool word? ) 


	5. Four: Revelations

Aren't you all lucky! I actually managed to get this up before I got to camp. I'm writing most of this in the car. ; So I won't be doing review responses, 'cuz I don't have internet access. Heh. Sorry!

* * *

Oath to a Jupiter Adept  
Chapter Four: Revelations

Ivan awoke to throbbing pain. It seemed to be laced throughout his whole body. Groaning, he slowly sat up in bed, trying to figure out where exactly the pain was coming from. Then, looking down at the scabbing cuts on his palms, he remembered what had happened the day before. 

Daren had happened. The biggest and meanest of the bullies. He was thirteen, and tall for his age, which meant he was much bigger, and much stronger, than Ivan. He had cold gray eyes that were always glaring at something, and his blond hair was constantly dirty and messy. The other mothers of Kalay treated Daren much the same way as they treated Ivan, albeit for different reasons - they kept their children away from him and closed the curtains when he came by outside. 

Constantly surrounded by a group of younger boys (they held him in great reverence, despite the disapproval of their mothers), Daren strode through the town like he owned it. And he might as well have - if Daren didn't like you, you were bound to get beaten up. Ivan had been receiving cold glares for days. 

He had been preoccupied walking through town yesterday, and so was taken completely by surprise when Daren sauntered up and stuck his face down into Ivan's own. "Freak," he had smirked, and pushed Ivan to the ground. "Rich, spoiled brat." He began kicking him. "Hammet's little _pet_." As he spat the last word out, Ivan scrambled to his feet, turned, and began to run, ignoring the numerous bruises forming all over his body. 

Before he had taken two steps, Daren's foot had slammed into the small of his back, throwing him forward. Catching himself on his hands, he slid forward over the ground. Sharp pebbles and tiny rock fragments dug deep gashes into his palms and stayed wedged in the cuts, stinging horribly as Ivan forced himself to his feet again. This time he managed to duck under Daren's punch and escape, only slowing down when he reached the outskirts of town. 

He had known he couldn't let Hammet and Layana see his injuries. He had been hiding these incidents for years now. So he did what he always did - snuck past the guard and into the palace through the tunnel. He wasn't supposed to know about this alternate entrance to the palace, but he had been through it so many times by now that he knew the passages and waterways by heart. 

Now, Ivan continued to stare dejectedly down at his hands. One of the cuts had broken open again and was bleeding. He let out a long, low sigh and tried not to cry. Today was his tenth birthday. 

He climbed out of bed, still fingering the cuts. He didn't want to face Hammet and Layana, didn't want a fancy cake with too-sweet icing, didn't want the dining room lavishly decorated, didn't want to hear one of Hammet's speeches about how Ivan would make him proud. He didn't _want_ to make him proud. He didn't belong here. The way he was treated proved that. Then again, he couldn't think of any place where he _would_ fit in. 

He closed his eyes and thought about it. It would be a small village. Everyone would know each other, and the kids wouldn't bully people smaller than them. It would be windy there. He would live with his parents. His real ones. 

There was a tower outside the town, tall and majestic against the sky. It was purple like his eyes, but a light, wispy shade. A huge crater was between it and the village. Dust rose off of it in thin, hazy clouds as the wind blew across it. His house was on a hill overlooking the plaza. He remembered the house, the familiar place, and longed to get out of the strange arms that held him, back to safety comfort mama's hands sister violet hair purple eyes- 

Ivan opened his eyes, blinking. Wait... what? 

"Ivan! Ivan, it's time to come downstairs!" 

Ivan heard Layana's voice and quickly snapped out of his reverie. He needed to get out of this place. Running from Daren and the others outside was better than avoiding Hammet and Layana in here. 

Turning to the window, he slid it open and slipped out with one practiced movement. He found footholds on the outside wall of the palace just long enough to pull the window shut behind him, then dropped lightly to the branch of a tree that grew below. Crouching, he grabbed the branch and swung down to the ground. He would worry about Hammet and Layana later - for now he was free. 

Wanting to be as far away from the palace as possible, Ivan quietly made his way down to the town square, making sure the palace guards didn't notice him. As he walked through the streets, people avoided him, making their way around him like a stream flows around a rock. He kept his head down and ignored them. He was used to this treatment, and although it never stopped hurting, he had learned how to bear it. 

He tried to avoid Daren and his posse by staying away from their usual hangouts and using the back roads. The boys liked to hang around the blacksmith's and yell through the window at him. If they were feeling cooperative, they would simply watch the forging of swords and axes, no doubt daydreaming about bringing them down on some innocent's skull. Now, Ivan gave the blacksmith's a wide berth and headed toward the main gate. 

The outer edge of the town was deserted when he reached it. He sat down against the town's main wall, and wished it were windier. He always felt better when the winds were blowing strongly - it was like they gave him some kind of energy that made it easier for him to stand up against the other kids. He would feel better about the threat of Daren and the others if it was windy. 

Ivan just sat like that for a while, hoping Hammet and Layana wouldn't come looking for him. They usually left him alone when he slipped out like this. He knew he was probably being selfish by leaving when they had gone to the trouble of a birthday celebration for him, but... 

He sighed, turning his face up to the sky. A few wispy clouds drifted overhead. The wind finally started to pick up, breezes winding through the trees and racing each other through the sky. The sound of rustling leaves filled the air as the trees began to sway, their tops brilliant reds and golds against the clear sky. 

He must have dozed off, because suddenly he was staring at a pair of legs, about a foot away from his face. He gasped and looked up. Daren stood over him, smirking. As Ivan watched, he raised a hand, balling it into a fist. 

Acting on the instinct he had gained from all his years in Kalay, Ivan dove through Daren's legs before the punch could connect. He scrambled to his feet and started to run, only to bump into one of Daren's younger followers. Gasping for breath, he turned to find another escape route. 

He realized with a jolt that there was no other escape route. Daren's little gang had formed a semi-circle against the wall, trapping Ivan inside with the bully. Unless he could break through them, he was in deep trouble. 

Ivan looked up at the wall. Unless... 

Suddenly, Daren was on him, hands searching for his throat. Ivan struggled, trying to push him away, while the other boys watched in silence. As Daren's hands started to close in, Ivan panicked. He wrenched his head to the side and bit down, hard, on the soft skin under the other boy's wrist. 

Daren howled, loosening his grip enough for Ivan to break free. The younger boy turned and used the moment of distraction to ram himself into Daren's ankles. Ivan wasn't heavy, but it was enough to send the bully to the ground. As Daren scrambled to his feet, Ivan raced to the wall and climbed, easily finding footholds and handholds in the weathered bricks. He reached the top and began to run along the wall's top, thanking the gods for his natural speed and sense of balance. He might not be strong, but he could get away when he needed to. 

Below, Daren shouted something to his group of followers, and they immediately began running in all different directions along the wall. Ivan stopped running, hesitant. What were they doing? He looked down to find Daren following him directly below, smiling up at him sickeningly. All around the wall, the other boys were climbing up. They were trying to surround him, and if he jumped, he would face Daren. 

He looked to the outside of the wall. No bullies waited for him there, but the forest did. He had heard about kids who wandered off into the forest and were crippled or killed by the monsters there. 

He had to do something. Looking up, he saw that one boy, about his age, was standing on the wall a few yards in front of him. A glance over his shoulder revealed another climbing up behind him, although this boy was having a harder time of it - he was much heavier than Ivan. 

The boy in front of him started forward. Ivan looked him up and down. Although they were evenly matched in age, the boy was still both bigger and stronger than Ivan was. He couldn't beat him if they fought. He would have to try a different strategy. 

Ivan drew himself up to his full height and tried to look as menacing as possible. "I wouldn't come any closer if I were you," he called out. It took all his willpower to keep his voice from shaking. 

"And why not?" the boy asked, still coming. "A little punk like you isn't gonna beat me up." 

Ivan swallowed. All the adults in town, and most of the kids, thought he was unnatural. He could tell what people were thinking. When he was mad, it stormed over Kalay. They didn't seem to realize that the control Ivan had over these powers was practically nonexistent. He could use this to his advantage. 

Some of the books he had read told of mystical people with strange powers who summoned up unknown forces with a wave of their hand. He tried to look like that now, holding a hand in the air and standing up tall. He smirked at the boy in front of him, trying not to let the fear he really felt show in his eyes. 

The boy only hesitated for a second, seemingly contemplating whether Ivan was telling the truth. A second was enough, and Ivan charged forward, knocking the boy off the wall and back down onto the street. He landed hard, and sat up gasping for breath. Daren, standing next to him, swore and kicked him roughly in the side. 

Ivan heard a noise behind him and spun to see the other boy finally reach the wall's top. He knew that he couldn't use the same trick again, and turned to run the other way. He had taken no more than two steps when he realized that there were more of Daren's followers in front of him. He looked around, fast losing hope when he saw that at least four boys had managed to scale the wall. Daren still waited below, like a vulture waiting for its meal. 

Dread rose in Ivan's throat as they came for him. As the first boy reached him, he dropped into a crouch and swept the boy's feet out from under him, sending him tumbling down to land next to Daren. But the others were still coming, and there was nothing he could do to defend himself. 

The first blow came hard in his side, forcing him back a step. Ivan made a weak attempt to elbow his attacker in the stomach, but was greeted by another punch to his side. Ivan cried out and doubled over as the pain spread like fire. Now the other boys arrived from behind. He tried to dodge their blows, but the pain made him clumsy. His foot slipped, and with a strangled gasp, he tumbled off the wall... 

And down to Daren. 

Ivan scrambled to his feet as the bully advanced on him. His mind was numb with fear. "Don't... don't hurt me..." He felt so pathetic. The town was right. He was just a freak and a weakling. 

"And why not?" Daren smirked. 

"Because... Because it's my birthday," Ivan muttered. He was backed up against the wall. He could feel the eager eyes of the other boys watching from above. 

"Really? Well, happy birthday." He punched Ivan in the face. 

Ivan slowly slid down the wall, tears leaking out of his eyes. The boys were cheering Daren on, and throwing snide remarks at his victim, but Ivan couldn't hear them. He was oblivious to everything except the blows raining down on him, and the fire that was slowly and fiercely spreading through his body. 

He sat there in a stupor until he could no longer discern how much time had passed. All that existed was pain. Suddenly, he realized that the abuse had stopped and Daren was talking to him. 

"Are you deaf, little Hammet-pet?" The other boys snickered. "I said, are you going to run?" Ivan just blinked at him. What was he asking? Daren nodded up at the top of the wall. "You'd better run now, or I'll call the boys down. You're getting a bit boring." 

Ivan ran. He ran straight out of Kalay, into the forest, and on and on blindly. His whole body ached more than it ever had in his life. He had never been ganged up on like this before. Why had he been such a coward? Because of his weakness, he was outside town, in the forest, probably about to be eaten by- 

Ivan tripped, and tumbled onto the forest floor. Dirt clung to his wet cheeks. He didn't bother getting up. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep; sleep and never go back to Kalay. 

Ivan lay in the forest, completely exhausted, until he heard something. His eyes shot open. Was that- 

It was a low growl, coming from directly in front of him. Slowly, heart racing, Ivan lifted his head and nearly fainted on the spot. 

Three monsters encircled him. The warnings he had heard about the forest had been true. There were two batlike creatures as big as himself, leathery wings tipped with sharp claws. Beady eyes stared eerily at him, and sharp fangs gleamed in the dim light. The third monster was a skeleton with glowing red eyes and a huge blade. Ivan had to tip his head back as far as it would go to take in all of the huge creature. 

The bats shrieked. Ivan snapped out of his stupor and ran. 

He was fast. He could outrun any of the kids in town, as proved by his numerous escapes from them. But even his speed couldn't match the bats' huge wings and the long legs of the skeleton. He was only ten, and he was tired. 

The bats reached him first. Razor-sharp claws raked across his arm, tearing a scream from Ivan's throat. He curled up on the ground as they came across for a second attack, claws penetrating his clothes to tear his skin. A raging tornado of fear ate him up inside, and he cowered as the skeleton approached. 

What could he do? What could he do? 

_The monsters had almost caught up with him when...  
three warriors appeared-  
Blond hair, bright purple eyes...  
purple flashes, fought with wind  
lightning cut through the monsters. . _

fought with wind... fought with wind... 

Ivan opened his eyes. Fight with the wind...? What was that? Where had he heard that story before? 

The skeleton roared and brought its blade down toward Ivan. He rolled aside and scrambled to his feet, ducking to avoid another bat attack. He could feel blood trickling down his arms and back, and decided anything was better than being killed here. 

Closing his eyes, Ivan reached for the wind that blew inside him. Fear and pain had transformed it into a fierce tempest that threatened to swallow him up. He grasped that raw power and threw it out toward the monsters. 

_Wind... Fight for me._

"Whirlwind!" a voice cried, and the air glowed faintly violet. Fierce gusts of wind swirled around the monsters, twisting them around before sending them crashing back to earth. Ivan dropped his hand and realized with a start that it was his voice that had spoken. 

The bats recovered quickly, taking to the air again. One of them shrieked and dove for Ivan. He raised his hands once again and concentrated. 

_Lightning... Protect me._

"Ray!" Ivan cried, and he felt electric currents flowing out of his fingertips and into the sky. With a flash of purple light, a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and struck the bat. It screeched and disintegrated, now nothing more than a heap of ash. 

The other monsters still came. Ivan turned to the other bat and called up another whirlwind, trying to dodge the deadly claws as he did so. It picked up the bat and spun it around. It shrieked in agony. A sound from behind Ivan made him realize that he had forgotten about the skeleton! His heart rose into his throat as the bat emerged from the winds of his attack. 

Before Ivan could correct his mistake, the skeleton's blade impacted his shoulder from behind. He collapsed into the dirt. 

_Happy birthday, Ivan_, he thought to himself. Then the pain exploded in his shoulder, and all went black.

* * *

Whew. That was pretty long. 

Lull: There's so much... blood... 0.o;;; And not enough romance... I need happy thoughts... 

This isn't supposed to be a romance! He's ten years old! 

Lull: ... 

Anyway... please review... I'll leave my dad instructions on how to post this on ff.net. I'll be gone at camp for a month, and I'm sad about that... but I'm really, really happy that I got this written! Victory! Haha! 

Lull: ... 


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